


new rooms

by cheinsaw



Category: Fate/Grand Order
Genre: Nonbinary Character, Other, Reunion Sex, background gudako/mash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-23 13:08:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23111839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheinsaw/pseuds/cheinsaw
Summary: Everything that rises must converge.
Relationships: Enkidu | False Lancer/Gilgamesh | Archer
Comments: 8
Kudos: 149





	new rooms

**Author's Note:**

> description from the shriekback song of the same name, because i listened to their album Oil and Gold almost nonstop whenever i worked on this fic

Chaldea is so _boring_ to the King of Heroes. Nothing of note ever happens—Ritsuka had already saved humanity's history before he arrived. What a disappointment. None of the other servants that remain under Ritsuka's contract are on par with Gilgamesh. None even come close to his glory; that's to be expected, but the few that share similar histories are little more than annoyances at best.

So Gilgamesh is bored. He has been for a while. There's no amusement here fit for someone like him, and even the finest wines and furs and perfumes lose their luster at times like this.

Until.

It's midday, on a day like any other. Nothing of note. No missions, no Rayshifts. Ritsuka has been tired lately, Gilgamesh notes. She rests on her days off in her room, twined close with the Demi-Servant girl, languid and warm. (Gilgamesh will not reminisce of when he—like that, with—)

So, on a day like this, Gilgamesh is content to stay in his own room. If someone needs him, they would have to call on him personally. He fully intends to relax, waiting out the boredom until Ritsuka deigns to take him along to the next pitiable inconsistency of humanity—

And he feels it.

This presence—

It's them. Enkidu. His Enkidu.

Gilgamesh has never gone anywhere as quick as he does to the Chaldea summoning circle, from where Enkidu's presence radiates. He walks with long, purposeful strides, his thoughts only on them, them, them. It's been so long. It has been too long.

Gilgamesh pushes the memory of Enkidu's lifeless body away from his mind. They're here, whole and pure and healthy again, he's sure. He's sure.

"Oh, Gilgamesh," Mash says when he passes by her in the hall. "Master is doing some summonings…" He pays her no mind, pulling on the handle to the summoning room, perhaps with more force than was ever necessary. Inside: familiar, warm, the scent of ancient earth and white muslin cloth. Gilgamesh is suddenly seized with desire—the very human, base want to run to Enkidu, to pull them close and say _I missed you, I missed you,_ to never let them go again. He will do no such thing, because acting like the very mongrels he looks down upon would be tantamount to giving up his throne, and Gilgamesh is not in the business of giving up anything.

"Gil!" Enkidu says, eyes widening. They stumble, unsteady on their feet (Gilgamesh remembers too well the first nauseating moments after being summoned), but they make their way to meet him with open arms. They practically collapse against Gilgamesh, resting their head on his shoulder for a brief moment before looking up into his eyes.

"It's been a while," Gilgamesh says. Almost without thinking, he brings his hand up to thread through Enkidu's hair for a brief moment before they part from their embrace.

"Oh," Ritsuka says. "So you're Gilgamesh's…?"

"Gil is my oldest, dearest friend, and I am his." Enkidu gently holds onto Gilgamesh's arm, as though it's where they're meant to be. "Being a Servant, I am your tool. But please understand that I belong to him, above all things."

"Doesn't that sound kinda… you know…?" Ritsuka says.

"I never expected you to understand, mongrel," Gilgamesh says. "Fool. Enkidu is not my possession nor one of my treasures, but my equal. No one else shall ever come close."

Ritsuka and Mash fret over Enkidu for a few moments, but Gilgamesh refuses to leave their side, glaring daggers into the two girls.

"And so, as for your rooming…" Mash says tentatively. "We could place you—"

"Enkidu will stay with me," Gilgamesh interjects.

"That makes things easier," Ritsuka says with a shrug. "As long as Enkidu is okay with it."

Enkidu smiles serenely, holding onto Gilgamesh's arm just a bit tighter. "Of course. It'll be just as it was in Uruk."

"We'll be going now," Gilgamesh says. "Do not interrupt us if you value your life."

"Okay, cool. Bye, then!" Ritsuka links her arm with Mash's and gently pulls her away, despite Mash's feeble protests.

"I see you haven't changed," Enkidu says.

"Nor have you." (He wouldn't have it any other way.)

The moment they pass the threshold of the door to Gilgamesh's room, Enkidu abandons all pretense, pulling Gilgamesh into their arms. "Gil, Gil," Enkidu's murmuring against his skin. "I've missed you so."

"And I you."

Their bodies press together as seamlessly as they did in life, but there's an even greater hum of power behind each touch. Divine Spirits incarnate. Enkidu deserves it, Gilgamesh thinks, he and Enkidu are the only ones in all of history who deserve this.

They fall into Gilgamesh's bed effortlessly, holding each other tight atop the piles of furs and blankets that Gilgamesh has accumulated. "Ah," Enkidu breathes against Gilgamesh's neck.

"Hmm?"

"Nothing, it just… It smells like home."

"Naturally. I would have nothing less for my quarters, if the Master here wants to make my stay _tolerable_ at the very least."

Enkidu smiles, eyes shining. "That's just like you." They lean down for another kiss, their hands roaming Gilgamesh's body as their teeth graze his lips. Their touch hasn't changed at all, featherlight affectionate brushes here and there in all the right places. No one knows Gilgamesh as Enkidu does, and no one loves him the way they do.

Somewhere in the back of Gilgamesh's mind, he always knew he'd see Enkidu again. Heroic Spirits, removed from the flow of time—it was bound to happen. Yet he never anticipated the joy of it, of having Enkidu lying atop him and kissing his neck for the first time since their death.

It takes an eternity for them to have their fill of kisses and move away long enough to talk. "What shall it be, Gil?" Enkidu sighs his name so happily, honoring it, treasuring it on their tongue. "I'm yours."

"Allow me," Gilgamesh replies, palming them through their pants. "It's your first day here."

Enkidu furrows their brow, though they do stiffen under Gilgamesh's hand. "That doesn't matter. I have been waiting to touch you—ah—for so long…"

"And? We have all the time in the world. Humanity has been restored. It is simply a matter of when we will be sent back to the Throne." Gilgamesh's fingers slip under their waistband and tug their pants down slightly, freeing their dick. "Enkidu. I have been waiting even longer for you. Do not keep me waiting."

"Mmh, fair enough," Enkidu sighs, pulling off their top and casting it aside, then doing the same for their pants. Gilgamesh, plain and simple, loves Enkidu's body. Perfect form, perfect lines and curves: oh, Enkidu was made to be adored. They settle against his chest, melting into his hands. They smell of earth and rain and spices and wood.

They breathe. Their heart beats.

Gilgamesh squeezes Enkidu just a little tighter, just for a moment. Enkidu chuckles, and drags their mouth along Gilgamesh's neck, up to his lips. They've had enough of teasing, they're saying with their eyes and hands. _More, Gil,_ he can almost hear them whispering.

Gilgamesh shifts himself so he's sitting up, Enkidu straddling his lap. He fumbles for a moment, reaching behind himself for the perfumed oils he keeps on hand; Enkidu meets him halfway and plucks a bottle from the collection for him. "Here," they smirk, and uncap it to pour the oil into Gilgamesh's waiting hand.

Enkidu's face softens in pleasure when Gilgamesh finally touches them, a small shiver visibly running through their body. How long has Gilgamesh dreamed of this very sight before his eyes? This—Enkidu, the one treasure he could not keep.

He rolls and flicks his wrist, and Enkidu melts, over and over again, canting their hips to thrust into his hand. "Gil," Enkidu gasps, frantic and halting, "I'll—"

"Go ahead," Gilgamesh murmurs back.

Enkidu's quiet this time: lovely eyes squeezed shut, lovely mouth hanging open. They shudder and collapse against Gilgamesh, breathing heavily for a moment. Gilgamesh lets them, pulling their quivering body closer.

Enkidu's eyelids flutter. "Gil," they whisper, when they can speak again.

"Don't tell me that was enough to satisfy you," Gilgamesh says, half-joking.

"You're correct," Enkidu says. "I may not be satisfied until I've had you all night."

Gilgamesh chuckles and trails a hand down Enkidu's arm. "Naturally. I would expect nothing less of you, my friend."

"Come, then. Your turn."

"Very well. Do as you see fit."

Gilgamesh leans into Enkidu's touches, crushing their body to his. They are all taut muscle against him, now, laughing and kissing and moving him however they like, fingers trailing burning touches across his skin. There's no one else like Enkidu, no one else who can hold humanity's first king in their hands like this, and Gilgamesh fully intends to savor every moment.

It likely will last all night like Enkidu had said, Gilgamesh thinks. Hours and hours spent entangled with Enkidu, no constraints or commitments or anything beyond the two of them together—it sounds like paradise. Just as it was in Uruk, the memory of Enkidu's voice says.

Spread out on his back, Gilgamesh breathes in the scents of ancient earth and white muslin cloth and golden oils—Enkidu, his Enkidu on top of him at long last.


End file.
